


Dirty Politics

by lizandletdie



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angry Sex, F/M, Jealousy, Local Politics, Rumbelle Secret Santa, referenced golden queen, referenced scarlet beauty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 13:59:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8919859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizandletdie/pseuds/lizandletdie
Summary: Belle French never wanted to run for Town Council, but something about Mr. Gold just rubs her the wrong way. It's not that she's jealous of the time she saw him at dinner with the mayor, she just thinks it's inappropriate for them to fraternize.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A Rumbelle Secret Santa present for crankynerdgirl on Tumblr, based on the prompt "Nonmagic, Frenemies, Jealousy, Forgiveness, Love"
> 
> There is a consensual, angry sex scene.

Belle French liked to keep busy. She was the only librarian at the Storybrooke public library, and as such she managed a team of volunteers and all the programs, like the book drives and storytime. She loved her job, though, even if it didn't leave a lot of downtime. For one thing, she liked getting to see so many people every day and keep up on their lives. She was among the first to know when a baby was coming (watch for copies of _What to Expect When You’re Expecting_ and baby name books) or if a vacation was planned (travel guides and language tapes) – or even when someone got a bad diagnosis from the local hospital (books on dealing with mortality and specific illnesses).

However, being so involved in the personal minutiae of the individual people meant that she sometimes missed out on the larger news of small town life – like, for example, local election news. So it came as a bit of a shock when she was cornered by Mary Margaret Nolan and a few other people right after she opened one day and told about a town council seat coming up for reelection.

“There’s always a town council seat up for reelection,” Belle said as she sorted through the daily returns. “Nobody ever runs.”

The town council was basically the same half dozen people and the mayor making decisions, and despite the fact it was technically an elected position for the most part people served until death or retirement and nobody ever actually ran against an incumbent and they certainly never _won_.

“We could change that!” Mary Margaret said. “A bunch of us are trying to shake things up around here and this could really help. The town needs to get some new people in positions of power.”

“Mary, isn’t your father on the council?” Belle asked pointedly and the other woman at least had the good grace to blush.

“His seat isn’t up for reelection for two more years,” Leroy said when Mary Margaret didn’t reply.

“So what do you all want from me?” Belle said at last.

“We think you should run,” Leroy said.

She definitely hadn’t been expecting _that_ answer. She’d thought they might want a donation or maybe for her to let them print posters on the library’s copy machine – not that they thought that _she_ should run for office.

“No,” she replied quickly. “I mean, why me?”

“Everyone knows you,” David Nolan replied when nobody else could produce an answer.

“Everyone knows everyone,” Belle said. “It’s a small town.”

“But everybody _likes_ you,” David continued. “You can’t buy that kind of good will for an election.”

“And everybody likes you, too, why don’t you run?”

David and Mary Margaret exchanged glances before Mary Margaret answered.

“David and I have the baby,” she said. “And between that and both of us working we’d never see each other.”

Ah, so Belle was a childless spinster and they didn’t think she had a life.

“I’ll think about it,” Belle said because she didn’t want to say _no_ outright. “Can I have until the end of the week?”

“Yeah, sure,” Leroy said.

“Just let us know,” Mary Margaret added.

The others just nodded, and the whole group walked out, leaving Belle to return to her work. It was so silly! She didn’t have any political experience, and she was already so busy. Town council would take up whatever free time she had and maybe she didn’t _want_ to be a spinster forever. She was happy with her life now, but she did want to have more of a personal life someday. She didn’t want Storybrooke to become her entire life. It was so frustrating, because she did want to help the town out, but she didn’t want to let herself get lost in it, either.

She was still pondering the strange request when Mr. Gold came to the counter with a book on Tuscan cooking. He was one of her favorite patrons, because he was always friendly with her and had a quip or an anecdote to make her smile. Sometimes it bordered on flirtation, but she was sure he didn’t mean anything by it and she really enjoyed their talks. He ran the pawn shop across the street from the library, so he was in at least once a week and she looked forward to those days.

“Good afternoon,” he said as he handed her his card. “How are you today?”

“Hello, Mr. Gold,” she said with a smile, trying to shake off her odd mood. “I’m well, how are you?”

“Good, good,” he replied with a wry smile and a glance out to the overcast sky. “Another beautiful day in paradise, you know.”

“Tell me about it,” she said, trying not to roll her eyes. “You know, I had a bunch of people here earlier trying to get me to run for town council?”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I guess they thought whatever seat is coming up in the next election would be vulnerable to being flipped or something and they thought I’d be interested in running. Can you believe that?”

“I can, actually,” he said stiffly. “That’s my seat.”

She looked up at him quickly, praying he was kidding but he didn’t have the teasing glint to his eyes or the little quirk to his mouth that she’d learned meant it was a joke – she _knew_ she’d regret not paying attention to local politics someday.

“I hadn’t decided if I was going to do it yet,” she said quickly. “I probably won’t. I’m so busy here.”

He was silent and awkward the entire rest of the transaction, and she didn’t blame him because it wasn’t every day someone told you that your political position was in danger of being poached. Mr. Gold was already pretty unpopular around town, and Belle had a sinking suspicion that’s why they’d decided to try this coup this year and not last. She couldn’t believe they’d put her up to this.

Belle tried to shake off the cloud that the conversation had brought, but it lingered the rest of the day even after Mr. Gold had long vanished into the pawn shop. By the time evening rolled around, she wasn’t really sure what to do about any of it. If he was going to be mad at her for even being asked then that was really his problem more than hers, but she did still halfway want to apologize to him as well. It can’t be easy to hear that people are actively trying to dethrone you as one of the heads of the town even if you did own half of it. No, she wasn’t going to apologize but whenever _he_ felt ready she’d accept one from him.

She had to go shopping after work, so that helped to clear her mind a bit and work some of the cobwebs out. The longer she had to think about it, the more sure she was that public office wasn’t for her. What the hell did she know or care about tax rates and community initiatives? She couldn’t even imagine having to stand up in a room full of the wealthiest people in town and trying to talk to them about infrastructure. The idea of it was giving her hives.

There had been clouds gathering all day, but the weather was supposed to hold until later that night so Belle had been left scrambling for shelter under the awning of a restaurant until some thunder had struck and she’d realized she was going to be stuck for awhile. Nothing for it, she was truly trapped and might as well have a drink at the bar while she waited out the storm.

Recognizing people in Storybrooke wasn’t exactly uncommon, but it still somehow took her by surprise to see Mr. Gold there – and especially to see that he was apparently on a date with the mayor. Well, _that_ was certainly interesting. Belle hadn’t known that the town council was in bed with the mayor quite so literally. Something about it pissed her off! Was that why he was so defensive of his seat? Because he and Regina Mills had some kind of going on? How dare he!

She couldn’t help watching them surreptitiously while she waited out the storm. Every time the mayor said something to him she felt her blood boil. Ugh, they were just awful! No wonder people wanted him out of office. Belle stewed for the entire two hours she had to wait out the rain. They were subtle, no public displays of affection or anything like that but still. Why else would they be out to dinner alone in _this_ restaurant? She wasn’t stupid.

The rain did finally stop, and Belle was able to escape the restaurant before Mr. Gold and Mayor Mills paid their tab. She wasn’t sure if they’d seen her and she _really_ hoped they hadn’t noticed her staring, but she hurried down the street to her apartment, only making one quick stop when she noticed the Nolans in the diner across the street.

“Mary Margaret?” she said as she approached their table.

“Belle! Hi!” Mary Margaret replied, looking a little confused. “What can we do for you?”

“I’ve thought about it, and I’d like to be your candidate for the town council.”

She just really hoped this wasn’t a terrible idea.

 

“Alright, I think we’re about done here,” Regina Mills said. “I’ll email you the details tonight, but I’d like to get this playground proposal ready to present to the town council at the next meeting.”

Reuben Gold nodded and finished up the meeting notes on his phone. Regina had decided the local children needed a place to go after school and that a playground was the perfect solution. That, or she wanted to be able to slap her name on something. Either way, he was helping her prepare to take it to the council for approval. It was always good to be owed a favor, and besides she was right – there really wasn’t anywhere for kids to play.

“Let me know if you need any other help,” Gold replied as he got up from the table. “But thank you for dinner.”

“My pleasure,” she replied coolly. “I’ll let you get back to whatever it is you do.”

“Indeed. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

He didn’t even wait for her to join him before he left the restaurant. She still had papers to put back together, and he just wanted to get home. It had been a long day, starting with the announcement he was actually going to have to field a campaign and ending with the dinner meeting with Regina. All he really wanted to do was go home, have a drink, and plan his next move.

He’d probably have felt better if it was anybody _but_ Belle French selected to oppose him, but there was nothing for it now. She had said she might not accept, though, so perhaps there was something he could do still to make it better. He liked her more than he did most people, and he didn’t want to run a campaign against her. There was no way he could win by trying to make other people like him more than her – because they most certainly didn’t like him _at all_ – so he was going to have to make a point of how much more qualified he was, and he strongly suspected that she would not appreciate that at all.

His ridiculous crush on the librarian notwithstanding, he couldn’t let her take his council seat. He just _couldn’t._ It wasn’t just that he liked the power (though he did), or that the power play amused him, or even that it helped his business. Town council was basically the only thing he did that did good for anyone. In between the petty arguments over zoning and Christmas decorations downtown he was able to do things like get playgrounds built and help with funding allotments for the social programs. He was proud of the things that he’d accomplished, and he was by no means ready to retire.

This was going to be an awful campaign all around.

 

Belle had not realized how much paperwork was involved in running for office, and she probably shouldn’t be doing it at work, but it was going to take forever and she was itching to file it all and be done with it. After this, she’d need to make signs and organize a campaign. She had help for it, but she was still going to have to do the brunt of the work all by herself.

The sound of books dropping on the desk ripped her attention off of her forms, and she saw Will Scarlet standing there looking _very_ uncomfortable. He wasn’t really one of her regular patrons, but he was a regular at the Rabbit Hole and the diner, and while she only went to the bar on weekends she was in the diner almost daily so they knew each other, though not well.

“Hello, Will,” she said as she scanned his card and started checking his books. “How are you today?”

“Just fine, thank you,” he replied, still not quite meeting her eye. And no wonder – it was a stack of three books about divorce and separation. She’d known he was having marital troubles (his last time in, he’d take out a few books with titles like _Fixing Your Broken Marriage_ and _Communication Is Key_ ) but apparently things weren’t going well.

She gave him a sympathetic smile as she marked the due date on the cards in the backs of the books and he instantly put on a cocky grin.

“Oh don’t look like that,” he said quickly. “It’s only a temporary thing, you know. She just wants to see other people and then we’ll work it out.”

“Of course you will,” she replied quickly. “Lots of couples have these sorts of rough patches, you wouldn’t believe how often these books go in and out.”

“And in the meantime, I’m keeping busy. There’s actually going to be a band at the Rabbit Hole this Saturday, you know.”

“I’d love to go,” Belle blurted out and he froze for a second and looked at her like a deer caught in her headlights. They stared at each other for a second and somehow her brain finally caught up with the fact that she’d just asked herself on a date at about the same time he managed to recover.

“Great!” he said. “I’ll meet you there at nine?”

All she could do was nod in horror as she handed over his books and he left. What the hell was she even thinking? She didn’t even _like_ Will Scarlet that much. Sure, he was nice and funny but he had a lot of baggage and there wasn’t really any chemistry there to speak of. And now she was going on a date with him apparently.

At least there were worse men she could go out with – like Mr. Gold, for example. Whatever he and the mayor saw in each other was beyond Belle. Sure, he was also nice to her and had really soft looking hair and a nice accent but _still_. A girl had to have standards, and she certainly wasn’t desperate enough to go out with _him_. It was almost laughable!

 

It was the worst date Belle had ever been on. The band was awful, and Will was clearly not enjoying himself, and she really just wanted to go home but politeness would dictate she at least finish this since she’d been the one to start it and at least it was loud enough that they didn’t have to worry about making conversation.

“These guys are really terrible,” Will had shout-whispered to her after a couple hours and she had to nod in agreement because it was way too loud to actually respond. “Wanna get out of here?”

She nodded again, thankful just to get out of there while her eardrums were intact.

“Do you want to get something to eat?” she asked, mostly just to be polite but also she was a little hungry and she was sure that a grilled cheese or something would be just about perfect.

“Sure,” he replied with a shrug. “Did you have someplace in mind?”

“The diner?”

He shrugged again and nodded, trailing her across the street to Granny’s. It was one of the few places in town open until midnight, and they still had enough time to get something to go which meant she’d be able to get back to her apartment alone to have her sandwich. They ended up ordering separately and sitting at a booth with coffee while they waited for their food.

Will was looking into his coffee like it was a way out of this date and Belle was looking around for literally _anything_ to discuss before their order came out when the door opened and she saw Mr. Gold come in. She immediately started giggling like Will had said something funny and tapped his shoulder playfully. Both Will and Gold were looking at her now and she was not proud of that panicked maneuver, but she’d already committed.

“You’re so funny,” she said a little loudly. He was looking at her like she was completely insane, which was probably a fair assessment at this point. “Sorry,” she added quieter. “I was just thinking about something you said the other day.”

“Yeah? What was that?”

“I don’t remember,” she said, as though that was a sensible answer to his question. “But anyway, you were telling me about your job the other day?”

“No I wasn’t,” he replied, looking entirely confused. “I’m actually between jobs now.”

“Right, you were telling me about that?”

He started telling her something about finding his calling, but all she could do was smile and nod because her entire focus was on stupid Mr. Gold ordering his stupid to-go order and watching her out of the corner of his eye while he leaned against the counter and waited. What was wrong with her?

 

Belle French left not long after he’d ordered, but Reuben Gold could still feel her presence in the diner. Apparently she was dating a married man now, so that was certainly interesting. She should perhaps discuss that with Mary Margaret Nolan, since the school teacher might like people to forget the dissolution of her husband’s first marriage but Gold never forgot anything, especially a scandal like that. He wondered if Belle had opted not to run for the town council, or if she was just particularly foolish. Either one was good news for him, but he still couldn’t shake the sick feeling he’d gotten when he had come in to see her there with another man. It was not a good feeling, and he wished he’d just gone straight home after doing his inventory and had leftovers for dinner.

“Here you go, Mr. Gold!” the waitress said at last, handing him a big paper bag with his food in it.

He nodded in acknowledgment as he took it and slipped a couple dollars into the tip jar at the register before making his way back home.

 

When he woke up the next morning, Gold already had an email waiting for him from the mayor. It was much earlier than he generally liked to deal with Regina Mills, but putting it off was just going to annoy him all day. At least she was generally short and to the point, a custom she had maintained in this particular one as well:

_Gold,_

_Seems you have some competition this November. Got papers from the librarian & she’s looking to challenge your seat._

_Thought you’d like to know._

_-R_

So Belle _had_ opted to go up for election against him. He couldn’t help but feel a little betrayed by that, which was silly, but she was one of the few people in town he could actually stand. But, at the same time, he had no intention of just letting her take this from him just because she had nice eyes and a quick smile. No, he’d treat her just like he would anyone else who challenged him – with cool calculation and absolutely no mercy.

 

Reuben hated campaigns. The town was practically papered in campaign posters for the upcoming election and Belle had been traipsing up and down the town with Will Scarlet in tow while she handed out leaflets. Poor Mr. Scarlet didn’t seem particularly eager for the life of a first lady, but he was still with her anyway. It was almost humorous watching the man standing awkwardly holding pamphlets whilst she tried to cover every vertical surface she could find in paper. Who on earth was bankrolling this operation, anyway?

He generally tried to avoid her while she was campaigning but sometimes it was unavoidable. Especially when she began canvassing in his neighborhood and he was walking to his car. Door-to-door was actually fairly clever of her, since he physically couldn’t do it and nobody wanted him to show up at their house anyway.

“Good morning, Mr. Gold!” Will Scarlet called out jovially from the end of the driveway. “How’s your campaign going?”

“Good enough that I don’t need to harass people in their homes at least,” he replied coolly.

“Don’t mind him, Will,” Belle said loud enough for Reuben to hear. “He’s just scared because he knows people actually trust me.”

“I wouldn’t be too confident, Ms. French,” Gold shot back. “Being liked is a far cry from being trusted.”

“I guess we’ll see about that in November, won’t we?” she replied with a smirk. She turned and stalked off down the street before he could respond. Will Scarlet just shrugged and followed her a few feet behind.

She did have a point that he was fairly universally disliked around town. Before this, he’d been fairly certain that at least _she_ had liked him, but those days were clearly behind them. Regardless, it didn’t matter if the town liked him – what he needed was for them to understand that he was the best prepared to work for them and there was only one way he could think of to do that.

 

Belle was livid. If she hadn’t already known Mr. Gold ran the damn town, today’s newspaper would have tipped her off. How dare they say she was _ridiculously inexperienced_? She’d never held public office before, but she was still a public servant – she could use the state employee’s credit union, for goodness sake. And she could learn! He must have learned at some point himself.

Now there were calls for a debate, too, which she wasn’t looking forward to. Not that Belle was intimidated by Mr. Gold, but there was so much to learn on top of campaigning and running the library and trying to have some time to herself sometimes. She’d been going through all the ballot initiatives that would be coming up for a public vote because it felt like a good start, but understanding all sides of each argument was giving her migraines almost nightly. She knew she was a reasonably intelligent woman, but she’d been an English major before grad school and the legal minutiae sometimes flew right over her head.

She kind of blamed Mr. Gold for the entire situation and, in some of her less proud moments, she’d defaced a few of his posters with a marker. Mostly writing stupid things like “DON’T” on top of the words “Vote for Gold” but she sometimes drew little doodles. It made her feel better for a few hours or so, but never lasted too long because there was always somebody wanting to talk to her about the campaign. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d gotten to read something just because she wanted to.

The canvassing was going well enough. Will had been coming with her (albeit a little reluctantly) and that definitely made her feel a lot safer wandering through strange neighborhoods getting to know people (a good portion of whom would just slam their doors in her face). He was late today, though, and Belle was stuck standing on a street corner waiting for him and checking her phone. She was in the process of taking it out of her pocket for about the sixth time in ten minutes when she felt it vibrate in her hand and, sure enough, when she looked at the screen it was a message from Will.

_Not coming today. Ana & I decided to give things another try – sorry._

That jerk! He was abandoning her to canvas by herself? She guessed it was good that he and his wife were getting back together, but she had so much campaigning still to do and she’d just lost her most regular volunteer. She should probably be a little bit more upset about losing the guy she’d been dating, but to be honest aside from that first horrible date they’d mostly just gone canvassing and putting up campaign posters the last few weeks. She’d been using him, and she knew it – honestly, he probably did, too. She just really wanted Gold to see her out with a guy for some reason she didn’t really want to think about. She was really, really pathetic.

There were some local election signs on the grassy median between the road and the sidewalk, and the _Vote for Gold!_ sign caught her eye. She didn’t think too hard about it, she just kicked it hard enough to knock it over before she walked back home. She tripped a little bit, but nobody else was around at least so she was able to gather herself back together with a minimum of embarrassment. She was still fuming, and going out to greet voters could only end one way - badly. It was time to just go home and take a short break. She had a debate to prepare for, anyway.

 

They didn’t usually do debates for the town council election, but they didn’t usually have a second person running for the office, either. Gold was not looking forward to any of this, but he also had to win. This was not up for negotiation, and he was going to do whatever it took to ensure victory. Belle looked ridiculously pretty standing at the podium across from him, but her skirt was a bit too short and she probably should have buttoned another button on her blouse if she was hoping for the more conservative people in town to take her seriously. Nobody had prepped her for this at all, had they?

“Thank you for coming to the town council debate,” Sidney Glass said to the assembled. It was fewer than thirty people, but the newspaper would be covering whatever happened and _that_ could affect the outcome of the election. Gold couldn’t afford to go easy on her.

“This has been a very exciting election season,” Sidney continued. “Tonight, we have a debate for the upcoming town council election between Ms. Belle French and Mr. Gold. I hope you’re all as excited as I am.”

Sydney paused for some reason, apparently expecting applause or something. Somebody coughed and it echoed loudly off the walls of the town hall. This was interminable, and Sidney clearly knew it, because he jumped right into the first question.

Belle did well enough throughout the debate, but she was obviously running mostly off charisma and looks. She had ideas, but they were largely things that had either been attempted before or that would never make it through a referendum. He _knew_ the city and the law, and Belle quite honestly did not. All that remained was to make sure everyone else noticed that fact.

There was a question and answer portion at the end of the debate where audience members could come to a microphone and ask questions, and Gold should probably be ashamed of what he’d done but it was a necessary thing. The third man in line owed Gold a debt. It wasn’t a particularly large one, but he’d still found it easier to surrender a Thursday night to local politics than to sell plasma to repay it. By the time William Smee made his way to the microphone, Belle had already deftly fielded a question about a proposed referendum for more financing to the local schools and a plan to promote the local Miner’s Day festival to the larger metro area, but this question had been specifically chosen to expose her weaknesses as a legislator.

Gold felt his fingers start to tap as Smee introduced himself and glanced down to the card he’d had prepared for him. The man should have memorized it, but it was no matter – nobody would remember that detail.

“I’d like to know what you think of the proposed expansion of the seaside residential areas,” Smee said haltingly before looking up from his cards expectantly.

It was Belle’s turn to answer first, and she smiled and leaned towards her microphone.

“I’m in favor of it,” she said. “More residential zones means more room for the community to grow, and the increase in property taxes would be good for the school district and the rest of the town.”

There was a smattering of polite applause, and Sidney Glass gestured for Gold to reply. Time to shine.

“With all due respect to Ms. French, I don’t think she’s thought through the entire issue,” he said as authoritatively as he could manage. Her eyes snapped to him instantly and he could see her surprise at his candor. “The town council has repeatedly declined expanding the oceanfront properties because the only places left to expand to are either public beaches or the docks, and I’m curious as to whether Ms. French would want to cut down on public access to the water or to infringe on the cannery, potentially risking the largest industry in the town. Furthermore, repeated surveys _by_ the town council have shown that more than likely any additional decent seaside property would simply turn into summer homes and while, yes, that would bring in some extra property tax it would hardly stimulate the local economy to have two or three new houses owned by part time residents. If she's after tourism dollars then we should be working with local inns – _that_ would actually stimulate the economy.”

Everyone was staring at him, and Belle’s cheeks were flushed red, but he couldn’t stop now. He’d taken the upper hand, and if he let off her now it was going to be a wasted endeavor.

“I have to wonder whether Ms. French even knows what the town council _does_ ,” he continued. “Has she actually done the research, read through the previous votes and decisions and thought through the issues to their logical conclusions, or is she just guessing? I’ll be the first to admit she’s been a brilliant librarian, but that’s hardly the same skill set as a legislator. You can’t just look in books for the answers, it requires actual knowledge of the law and economics and I’m sorry but I don’t think she has that.”

She had a look on her face like he’d slapped her and the red in her cheeks had worked its way down her neck. He held her gaze steadily until she looked down at her notes and he was sure she was going to cry as soon as this was all over. He did feel bad for what he’d just done, but he hadn’t had a choice in the matter. She had forced his hand.

Nobody applauded, but they had heard him and this moment would certainly make it to the paper. There were still two more questions in the debate, but he knew he’d won.

She never did fully recover after that, and as soon as the debate came to a close she rushed off the stage – she never even looked at him when she shook his hand. He _did_ feel bad, truly. But feeling bad didn’t mean he owed her a pass on not knowing what she was talking about.

There were pictures to take and people who wanted clarification on some point or another he’d made, but it didn’t take him too long to escape the hall and make his way back home. Once there, he settled in his study with a bottle of scotch and his thoughts. He hated campaigning so much. He enjoyed politics – the minutiae of it, the legal wrangling, the favors – but _campaigning_ was nearly intolerable _._ It was all a popularity contest, except ideally you ended up with a qualified politician at the end of the day. He was never any good at making people like him, but he was very good at thinking things through to their logical conclusions. He was good at seeing all the potential outcomes and juggling needs and wants. He was just _better_ at this job than she would be.

Nobody would like him tomorrow, and they still wouldn’t like him by the election on Tuesday, but they would vote for him. He took a sip of his scotch and felt it burn its way down as he thought it through. They didn’t have to like him, they just had to trust that he would be the best choice for the town.

 

Belle shouldn’t have knocked on his door, but she was just so angry! He’d gone too far this time, and she was going to give him a piece of her mind. His lawn was so immaculate it made her even more annoyed. She wanted to tip over his bird feeder or something, but then the door swung open and he was standing there with no tie or coat on and her ire found its target.

“How dare you?” she spat out. “Of all the low down, dirty… you arranged for that!”

“It was a debate, Miss French,” he said. “If you’re unfamiliar with the issues then maybe you shouldn’t have run.”

He had a point and she knew it, but she was so humiliated she couldn’t help but be angry at him. She had looked like an idiot at that debate, and she would look like a larger one tomorrow when the paper came out.

“You are an _asshole_ ,” she snarled, trying to resist the urge to hit him in his stupid smug face. “You and I both know that I’d have learned the zoning issues and that if I'd had the data you did I could have answered better! And furthermore –”

She’d have kept going, except at that moment he cupped the back of her neck and kissed her hard. She had really enjoyed yelling at him, but this was somehow equally good. He tasted like expensive whiskey and honey, and it warmed her from the inside. This was a terrible idea. She hated him, he’d undermined her and embarrassed her and God she just wanted to keep kissing him.

Belle tangled her fingers into his hair and held him forcibly in place while she kissed him back, harder and needier than he had. She was so fucking angry, and she wanted to hurt him but at the same time she didn’t want him to stop. It was the most intense kiss she’d ever felt in her life, and she was in no hurry for it to end. When he did finally pull away, she held his lower lip between her teeth for a moment before releasing him. Her own lips felt bruised and swollen and strangely desolate now that his weren’t there anymore. He was looking at her with wide eyes and breathing heavily, and she was sure they were both half drunk on lust (and, in his case, possibly also liquor), but then their lips were crashing back together again and he was leaned against his door with his arms right around her waist and they were holding each other up.

It took some struggling from both of them to turn the doorknob and as soon as the latch was disengaged, it slammed open against the wall and he collapsed to the ground with her on top of him.

Neither one of them made any move to disengage from each other, as they fought for dominance in their lovemaking. He was hard against her thighs as she straddled his hips and ripped his shirt open, sending buttons flying. But then she was beneath him as he marked her breasts and neck with his lips. She raked nails down his chest and back and somehow he managed to get the door shut before she was back on top of him.

She made quick work of his belt, yanking it through the loops and tossing it aside before freeing his cock from his trousers. He hissed as she touched it, and that just spurred her forward. He was heavy in her palm as she stroked him and made him writhe beneath her on the floor of his house. She felt strong and in control as she teased him, and soon enough he had wrested control back and had his fingers inside her panties. He thrust them in and out at a steady pace and she knew then that it was truly a waste for him to be her rival when his hands could do _that_.

She shouldn’t want him, he was her opponent and a jerk and he’d embarrassed her in front of the entire town but damn her, she wanted him. She’d wanted him for longer than she’d even been aware of, but it felt so good to be here with his hair in her fists and his fingers inside of her. It didn’t take long at all for Belle to feel her world go spiralling out of control as she came undone while he remained perfectly composed – this could not stand.

Once her heart stopped pounding quite so hard in her chest and she was sure she could walk straight again, she grabbed him by the hair and pulled him down for another kiss. Part of her wanted to lay there in his foyer all night and see how many times he could make her come, but another part of her wanted to steal his breath from him and leave him wrecked and ruined in her wake.

“Where's your bedroom?” she asked, and she could see the bob of his Adam's apple as he swallowed.

“Upstairs,” he replied, looking half frantic in a way that soothed her hurt from earlier. No matter what had happened earlier, Belle had the power here.

“Show me?”

He nodded and she let him silently lead her to his exquisitely decorated bedroom before she pinned him against the wall with another lingering kiss, this time making sure to leave a mark on his neck where it would be visible above his collar. Let him try to explain _that_ tomorrow while she had to try to recover from her earlier humiliation.

She batted his hands away when he tried to strip her of her skirt, instead shoving him onto the bed so he could watch as she undressed herself before straddling his lap again and removing her bra. She cocked an eyebrow at him, trying to indicate she wanted him to take off his trousers but if she'd thought he would quietly let her seize control of this encounter she was corrected when he kissed her again, taking a handful of her hair before he ripped her panties from her hips in a quick motion. God, that should not be _that_ erotic.

Once he had released her hair, Belle slapped him hard across the face, and then kissed him again. This time, he pulled her down onto the bed and there were no more interruptions.

They didn’t speak the entire night. Even after he had thrust into her hard and fast, and she wrapped her legs around his hips to force him back each time over and over until she was senseless with ecstasy, they didn’t say each other’s names in the heat of passion. Words would have broken whatever was between them and anyway, they didn’t need words. The feelings between them were all out in the open now – anger and resentment and lust and some kind of affection underneath it all. Nothing was left secret, and lies wouldn’t have suited them anyway.

 

Belle awoke the next morning, and had no idea what had gotten into her the night before. She was wrapped in a tangle of blankets next to Gold, and nothing had changed while everything had changed. The election was still on Tuesday, and he was still her opponent. This was all such a mistake, she never should have come here.

She crawled out of bed as quietly as possible and grabbed up her clothes on her way to the door. Panties were destroyed, tights and blouse were gone, skirt was on the vanity, shoes on the stairs, sweater in the hall next to his buttonless shirt. It was enough to get home if she tucked his shirt into her skirt and buttoned her sweater over top of it. The walk of shame was long, and awkward, but she got to her apartment with no incidents. What the hell was she going to do about this? About any of it?

Once she was safely locked in her apartment, she undressed again and took a nice, long shower. Her body was sore in the way you always feel sore after a long night of really incredible sex, combined with the soreness of using muscles she hadn't used in awhile. Between using her legs to pull him into her the first time and then riding him hard after she woke up again before dawn, her legs were just about to give out on her, and she'd had so many orgasms that her vulva was tender. Her one consolation was that she knew that she’d left him in worse shape. There had been scratches down his back and chest by the time she was done with him – she'd like to see him explain _that_ to the mayor the next time they went on one of those little dates, the bastard.

The shower helped a lot, though, and by the time she was clean she was sure that she could face the day. Step one was going to be checking her messages to see what the fallout of the debate had been, and then maybe going to get some breakfast. She was sifting through her purse when she remembered that she hadn't brought her bag with her to Mr. Gold's house last night, though she had brought her phone in the pocket of her skirt. The same skirt that had definitely _not_ had a phone in it this morning when she put it on and snuck out of there like a catburglar. Fuck, her phone was at Mr. Gold's house.

 

Reuben Gold knew she was gone before he even woke up all the way. The bed was still warm, but it felt empty in a way it hadn't when Belle had been there. Not that she had clung to him in her sleep or anything quite so sappy – she had actually curled up on the other side of the bed and fallen right asleep after both times – but the bed just felt different when she was in it.

The whole encounter felt like a dream, and if it weren't for the burning pain of the scratches on his chest (and the matching pain on his back) and the shredded remnants of her panties on the foot of his bed he wouldn't have believed it really happened. It was absolutely unreal.

He still wasn’t sure what precisely had come over him when he’d kissed her out of the blue like that. He’d admittedly had a few to drink ahead of time, but was not drunk enough to think kissing a woman who was yelling at him would end any way but besides with him getting pepper sprayed. But somehow, in that moment he didn’t think he could have lived with himself if he didn’t kiss her just that once. The rest of the night had been a pretty pleasant surprise, but it had been a surprise. And now he wasn’t sure where to go from here. Did you buy a woman flowers after she snuck out of your house in the dead of night?

He was laying in bed trying to work this whole situation out in his head when he heard his phone ring. He rolled over to check his bedside stand, except his phone wasn’t there, and also that wasn’t his ringtone. It took some doing, but he finally located Belle’s phone under the bed. Well, apparently step one was going to be figuring out how to return her cell phone. Would the book return at the library be too impersonal or was he going to have to brave her door?

He left the phone on his dresser while he showered and dressed. There was a fairly prominent hickey on the side of his throat above his collar, and he was entirely certain she’d done that on purpose though to what end he couldn’t begin to guess. She had also done a number on his chest as well. Mostly it was red marks that would fade soon, but there were a few places that her nails had dug into him hard enough to draw blood. Something in him enjoyed seeing them there, though. They were a reminder of what had been a thoroughly enjoyable night.

The paper was waiting for him on the front step when he left, and when he picked it up a small picture from the debate was on the front page below the fold. There was an accompanying article titled “French Reveals Plan To Close Storybrooke’s Beaches” which Gold had absolutely no desire to look over right now. He tucked the newspaper under his arm and checked his coat pocket for her phone again – apparently he _was_ going to be dropping it in the library’s book return after all. There was no way he was going to brave Belle French after she saw this article.

 

Election night came too fast for Belle. It had been a rapid downswing, but the campaign had rallied with some more posters and a radio spot asking people if they were happy with how the town was being run, although she had mostly stayed out of it. The drama with the debate and the ensuing evening had just driven home that she didn't want to do this and wasn't sure why she had thought she had. Her heart wasn't in it, but now it had gone on so long she didn't know how to back out.

He'd been right at the debate – she was hilariously unqualified for town council. She thought she might break out in hives before the results came in, but all she could think to do was soldier on and pray she wasn't elected.

She was supposed to meet with people at the diner to await the results, but Reuben Gold was already there when she arrived. She actually owed him a thank you for dropping her phone off, even if she'd found out because the book return started ringing. It had still been a nice gesture, as he could have easily made her come back for it herself.

Ever since the phone had turned up, she’d been even more confused about him than usual. It had actually been disappointing to not have an excuse to go see him again and Belle wasn’t sure what that meant, because she’d ever been aware of seeing him as anything more than a favorite customer before but maybe there _was_ something more there. He was sitting alone and drinking, and she thought she might get an answer to all of her questions if she wanted one.

Belle joined him at the counter and ordered her own drink, and for awhile they didn't talk but soon enough the silence became too comfortable and she became unsettled by how nice it felt to be near him without worrying about anything.

“Thank you for returning my phone,” she said at last. “I hadn't had a chance to say before now, but I did appreciate it.”

“Don't mention it. I hope the method of returning it wasn't too unorthodox?”

“All things considered, I can't complain about that,” she replied. “Sorry I stole your shirt.”

He chuckled a little at that and looked away from her again. She wasn’t going to admit that she still had it. She’d been about to throw it out, but then she’d ended up shoving it into the back of her drawer. The fabric was just so _nice_ she that couldn’t bear to get rid of it.

“Let’s just say that whatever happened that day is water under the bridge,” he said at last. “We both did things, and I wasn’t going to wear the shirt again in any event.”

“What did you tell the mayor about…” she wasn’t sure how to say it or particularly interested in letting anyone know she’d been the one to leave the mark that was still visibly fading on his neck.

It took him a second to catch her meaning, but he blushed just a bit when he did and she thought it was actually kind of endearing that he could still be embarrassed by that sort of thing.

“I didn’t tell her anything,” he said. “Why would I?”

“Well, aren’t you two… you know?”

He was looking at her with a face full of confusion and suddenly she wasn’t so sure of what she’d seen all those weeks ago.

“Good God, no!” he exclaimed, his face screwing up into a look of disgust. “Why would you think that?”

Now it was her turn to blush. It was hard to admit what she’d thought now that she knew she’d been mistaken, but she wasn’t sure what to do at this juncture besides just tell the truth.

“I saw you two at dinner together,” she replied dully. “A few weeks ago.”

“Oh, that? She needed help with a proposal for a new playground she wants to build.”

“Oh, this is embarrassing,” she said, covering her face in her hands. “I’m such an idiot. I thought you two were _together._ ”

“Come on,” he replied, getting off his stool and offering her a hand down. “I’d rather not discuss this publicly.”

She nodded and let him help her down. She shouldn’t be feeling so relieved and stupid at the same time. If she had misinterpreted that so badly, then what else had she been wrong about?

 

There was a laundry room in the back of the B&B. Reuben had only been in it once or twice, but he knew it would be abandoned at this time of night and he wasn’t eager to have any of the waitresses overhearing what had been up for discussion. Once they were in the laundry room, he shut the door and turned on the single bulb swinging from the ceiling. During the day, the large windows kept the room fairly well lit, but at night it was full of shadows – the perfect place for secrets.

“Now,” he said. “Start over, please. You thought I was seeing Regina Mills?”

“You two do spend an awful lot of time together, you know.”

“It’s one of the perks of the job,” he replied. “If you win the election, you’ll get to spend quite a lot of time with a lot of people you may not like.”

“I’m sorry,” she said earnestly. The sides of her mouth were beginning to curl up into a smile and he watched with amusement as she started to giggle. At first she covered her mouth and tried to suppress her laughter, but eventually she was bent over at the waist and shaking, and he couldn’t keep from chuckling as well even though he wasn’t entirely sure what was so funny. It was just a relief to be talking to her and not be on the defensive.

“I’m such an idiot,” she said after a little while, trying to catch her breath.

“You’re beautiful,” he replied on instinct. She froze and looked at him with her lips parted in shock. Shit. “I-I mean…”

He hadn’t quite decided how he thought she’d react and there was a part of him that fully expected to get slapped again. He most certainly had _not_ expected her to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him. She was soft now, there were no teeth or desperate struggles for the upper hand. She just kissed him like she wanted to kiss him and his heart leapt into his throat at that realization. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer.

After a few moments she finally broke away, and he couldn’t help but follow her to brush his lips against hers one final time.

“You think I’m beautiful,” she said.

“Yeah,” he replied, which wasn’t quite as articulate as he would have hoped, but she was smiling at him and he could barely breathe anymore.

“Tell me honestly, do you like me or is this just because of the last few weeks?”

“I do,” he said softly, deciding honesty was the best policy here. “I like you. I always have.”

“Good,” she said, smiling and kissing him again. “Because I really, really like you.”

Reuben wanted to say something incredibly romantic to make her forget every single petty thing that they’d both done, but then she kissed him again and he could feel his brain fizzle. He just wanted to be closer, and soon enough she was backed against a washing machine and one of his hands was holding her close while the other worked its way under her skirt. She was crushed up against him and he felt her trying to work his tie off and slide his jacket off his shoulders at the same time somehow. It was frantic, but there was a sweetness to her that he’d always hoped would be there if he ever got to kiss her.

Finally, he slid both hands around to lift her up by her thighs and scoop her onto the washing machine. She squeaked a little in surprise, but as soon as she was settled and realized what he’d done she smiled, spread her legs, and pulled him between them for another long, lingering kiss. This was, by far, the happiest he’d ever been as Belle French finally got his jacket off and dropped it unceremoniously on the floor behind him. She then began slowly unbuttoning his shirt while she kissed him over and over again. He trailed his fingers up and down her thighs, pushing her skirt up to her hips and just enjoying the feeling of touching and being touched.

It was intoxicating, and so easy to forget where he was as long as he was with _her_ that he was actually startled when he heard the door open and someone shouting _‘Oh my God!’_ behind him.

Belle yelped and ducked her face down into the crook of his neck and he turned as well as he could without exposing how high her skirt had ridden. There were a handful of people standing there with their eyes wide. He recognized most of them as having been Belle’s campaign volunteers.

“Can we help you?” he said as sarcastically as he could manage having been caught feeling up his opposition on election night.

“The election results are in,” Mary Margaret Blanchard-Nolan said in a much squeakier voice than usual. “We were looking for Belle.”

“Who won?” Belle asked, still not looking up from where she still had her face hidden in his chest.

“He did,” Mary Margaret said, squeakier still than before. “But it was _really_ close. Less than a hundred votes, actually… so we think we’re going to try again next year –”

“This is all _very_ interesting,” Gold broke in. “But could you possibly have this conversation tomorrow?”

Mary Margaret nodded and the assembled group quickly filed out of the laundry room, thankfully shutting the door behind them.

“Congratulations,” Belle said as soon as they were alone again. “I’m really glad it was you, I don’t know what I’d have done if I’d gotten stuck with the job.”

“That’s a lovely concession speech,” he replied, kissing her again quickly. “But I’m afraid we’re not going to be alone much longer once they tell Mrs. Lucas what’s going on in here, so do you mind if we move this someplace a bit more private? I have a perfectly good washing machine at my house.”

“As tempting as that sounds, my place is a lot closer and I did the walk of shame last time.”

“Yours it is, then,” he said, helping her down and retrieving his coat from its spot on the floor. “Although I must warn you, I’m not planning on any kind of shame tomorrow morning.”

She smiled and kissed him again, and it was hard to remember why exactly they had to leave this nice warm laundry room, but then they were in the alley behind the diner on their way to her place. Just for once in his life, everything felt like it was exactly as it should be.


End file.
